Blog

  • Seconds

    Seconds

    Seconds (Picks up where The Nutcracker left off) Nolo paused, caught half in, half out; a spy arrested by a scar, he’d come seconds too late to prevent; he’d saved the Kid’s eye, but not his face, too late by mere seconds. Yet just in time to save Sarn’s life, just so he could wreck it at… Read more

  • Button Holed

    Button Holed (Picks up where Second Thoughts left off) “Between the shadow and the soul, I love you like a dark thing in secret,” she sang as flies buzzed around her head, while above, a boy sat making button hearts to hang. Sarn crouched down to see what his son had made. “For the tree,” Ran… Read more

  • The Rusted King and the Drum

    The Rusted King and the Drum

    The Rusted King and the Drum (Picks up where Between Dreams and Boats left off) Rusted nails twisted into a diadem. Three blood stones set in place of precious jewels. On a scrap heap he sprawled with a ripped hem. The King of Nimbledon, liege-lord of fools, price of thieves and bully boys–pay him heed all you… Read more

  • Second Thoughts

    Second Thoughts

    Second Thoughts (Picks up where Sparring left off) An open door framed the Christmas tree from where Sarn sat on the edge of his bed, his son’s head pillowed on his thigh, but from that angle what was visible instead, was not the silver fringe unraveled. The tree spoke of things unknown, begged questions with… Read more

  • Dancing in the Sun

    Dancing in the Sun She’s dancing in the sun and in its light, reveling in the setting day, laying to rest all our woes as night creeps into sight. Its purple, spangled allure is rolling on in and swallowing the east. In its folds she hooks her fingers and pulls, blanketing Shayari in sleep’s release.… Read more

  • Reflections

    Reflections

    Reflections Concentric rings disrupted the image reflected in the pool; drips from fingers dropped onto that watery assemblage where a pair of glowing green eyes linger. Sarn turned his back on the water’s mirror and the stalactite’s slow weeping to pace. His son continued making rings appear and glowing stones’ reflections dance in place. “Why you sad?”… Read more

  • The Bloodcrow

    The Bloodcrow Through an aperture, he saw the Bloodcrow sift through the bodies scattered on the track. Dread hammered nails in his apathy, sowed a frantic beat in his veins, magic jacked… “Papa, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” Small hands patted Sarn’s face, empyreal radiance cut ‘cross the scene in green beams. His magic threw the dream, reached… Read more

  • Sparing

    Sparing

    Sparing (Continues where The Perfect Stone left off) Sarn spat blood, ignored the bright motes floating in the red stain, as he rose for round four. “Come on, stop defending. Start offending,” said his teacher for this match, a man four decades past caring and two past Sarn’s age. “Come on, Kid, hit me. No more defense try… Read more

  • The Perfect Stone

    The Perfect Stone

    The Perfect Stone (Picks up where Light the Wreath left off) Seeking the perfect one, Ran touched the stones. “Make them glow,” he said; Sarn touched them; they lit, ’til he moved his hand away. “Pick one stone.” Ran piled the stones up and smiled for his bit. A voice cried out, “make a way for the Lord.” Again he cried, “make straight a… Read more

  • December’s Rise

    December’s Rise

    December’s Rise November gives thanks to all who precede. After the feast, it gracefully exits. Autumn’s color fallen away indeed. A landscape blanketed in leaves permits December’s rise. It sweeps onto the stage alight with seasons greetings, warm regards, and Advent wreaths. ‘Fore the year turns the page, dream of a white Christmas and write your cards; send them… Read more